Dirk Pitt18-Black Wind

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Dirk Pitt18-Black Wind Page 49

by Cussler, Clive

launch tower, all of the men could not help but look up at the

  shimmering white rocket that towered over them. The captives were led

  to the very base of the standing rocket, which clung to the

  tower several feet above them. Dirk and Dahlgren were shoved against a

  tower bracing and ordered to stand still as the guard with the rope

  began cutting it into several lengths with a serrated knife.

  Tongju stood and casually unholstered his Glock, aiming it at Dirk's

  throat, as a guard hog-tied his wrists and elbows behind his back and

  around a tower support beam. The guard then tied his ankles together

  and wrapped them to the beam before moving over to Dahlgren and roping

  him to the tower in the same fashion.

  "Enjoy the launch, gentlemen," Tongju hissed, then turned and walked

  away.

  "We shall, knowing that vermin like you won't have long to breathe,"

  Dirk cursed.

  He and Dahlgren watched silently as Tongju and his men jogged across

  the platform toward the forward support column and disappeared down the

  stairwell. A few minutes later, they observed the tender speeding away

  toward the Koguryo, which was now positioned nearly two miles from the

  Odyssey. From their captive position, they had a clear view of the

  launch clock as it ticked down to 00:26:00, twenty-six minutes. Dirk

  looked up and morbidly studied the Zenit's huge thrusters that hung

  several feet above their heads. At the first seconds of launch, 1.6

  million pounds of thrust would be expelled onto them like a firestorm,

  incinerating their bodies to ashes. At least it would be a quick

  death, he thought.

  "I guess that's the last time I let you talk me into crashing a party

  uninvited," Dahlgren said, breaking the tension.

  "Sorry, I guess we were a little underdressed," Dirk replied without

  humor. He tugged and twisted at the binding ropes, searching for an

  avenue of escape, but there was little room to even wiggle his hands.

  "Any chance you can slip your ropes?" he asked hopefully of

  Dahlgren.

  "Afraid not. This guy definitely earned his merit badge in knot

  tying," Dahlgren said, pulling at his restraints.

  A loud clanging across the platform seized their attention, which

  was followed by a deep rumbling beneath their feet. The rushing sound

  of flowing liquid bellowed up behind them, roaring up and overhead

  through a series of pipes built into the launch tower. The pipes

  creaked and groaned around them as they protested the flow of the

  supercooled liquid oxygen and kerosene being pumped into the Zenit.

  "They're fueling the rocket," Dirk observed. "Too dangerous to do with

  the crew aboard so they wait until just prior to launch, after the

  platform has been evacuated."

  "That makes me feel so much better. I just hope the guy manning the

  pump doesn't get sloppy and overfill the tank."

  They both looked up at the rocket in apprehension, knowing that a spill

  of liquid oxygen would burn right through their skin. The rocket

  shuddered and wailed as it drank in the liquid fuel, seeming to come

  alive with the infusion. Pumps and motors whirred above their heads as

  priming fuel was released into the rocket engine's initial combustion

  chamber. Both men stared up in numbed silence at the mouth of the

  rocket thrusters, contemplating the impending conflagration that would

  rain upon them. Dirk thought of Sarah and felt a sudden pang in his

  chest, realizing he would never see her again. Worse still, he

  remembered that she was visiting Los Angeles. She, too, might well

  succumb to the effects of the missile launch, a launch that he had

  failed to prevent. Then his sister and father sprang to mind and he

  felt remorse in that they would never know what befell his

  disappearance. There certainly wouldn't be any remains left to bury,

  he thought morbidly. His attention was drawn to a low hiss, caused by

  puffs of white steam venting out of several safety valves along the

  Zenit's exterior. As the chilled oxygen warmed in the daytime air, the

  expanding vapor was purged from the rocket, accumulating in wispy

  clouds above their heads. To the cruel irony of the two captives

  awaiting death in their last minutes, the sky seemed to darken over

  them as the vapor shadows obscured the rays of the sun. But Dirk's

  heart suddenly skipped a beat when he realized that the shadow

  cast over them above the rocket was slowly creeping across the platform

  deck.

  Even from high in the sky, the Sea Launch platform and Zenit rocket

  looked impressive. But for the men in the Icarus, the focus was not

  one of sightseeing. There was no puttering around the airspace this

  time as the blimp came floating directly over the stationary

  platform.

  "There's the Badger. She's tied up alongside the forward support

  column," Giordino said, pointing toward a corner of the platform where

  the red submersible could be seen bobbing in the water.

  "Dirk and Jack clearly made it aboard," Pitt replied with a touch of

  concern.

  Upon receiving a radio call from Summer on the Deep Endeavorthat the

  Narwhal had been attacked, Pitt immediately yanked the blimp around to

  the south and came charging back at full speed. The twin Porsche

  engines affixed to the gondola whined as the rpm's climbed and the

  airship was pushed to its top speed of 50 knots. On the horizon, Pitt

  and Giordino could see the black smoke from the Narwhal's smoldering

  hull rising like a beacon before the ship slipped underwater. Pitt

  willed the blimp toward the debris as fast as the ungainly airship

  would go while Giordino focused the long-distance camera at the site

  ahead. As they grew nearer, they observed the Koguryo distancing

  herself from the platform, while discovering little remains of the

  Coast Guard vessel through the magnified camera lens.

  "You might not want to cruise too close to that support ship," Giordino

  cautioned after several tight passes over the Narwhal site failed to

  reveal any survivors.

  "You think she's carrying SAMs?" Pitt asked.

  "She stung the Narwhal with a surface-to-surface, so it's a betting

  chance."

  "I'll keep the platform positioned in between us. That should dissuade

  them from firing on us and, hopefully, alleviate your Hindenburg

  fears."

  Pitt brought the airship down to an altitude of five hundred feet and

  eased back on the high-reving motors as they approached the platform.

  Giordino focused the WES COM camera onto the Koguryo standing off in

  the distance, eyeing it warily for signs of a potential strike on the

  blimp. The shuttle boat suddenly lurched into view on the monitor as

  it pulled up alongside the ship. Pitt and Giordino watched as Tongju

  and the last of his assault team climbed onto the larger vessel. Pitt

  noted that Jack and his son were not among the group.

  "The last of the rats leaving the platform?" Giordino asked.

  "Could be. Doesn't look like they are sending the tender back. Let's

  see if we can find anyone left minding the store."

  The blimp drifted over the stern of the pl
atform and Pitt guided the

  airship along the length of the portside deck toward the bow. Not a

  soul could be seen wandering the deck below. Giordino pointed out the

  backward-ticking clock on the hangar, which read 00:27:00, twenty-seven

  minutes. As they floated past the forward edge, Pitt turned and ran

  across the Odyssey's bow and alongside the roof-mounted pilothouse.

  Giordino swung the camera until it pointed into the windows of the

  platform's command station. On the monitor, they could see clearly

  into the bridge. Scanning back and forth, there was not a solitary

  sign of life.

  "Looks like the ghost ship Mary Celeste around here," Giordino said.

  "No doubt about it. They're getting ready to light the fuse."

  Pitt turned the blimp's controls again and brought the airship down the

  length of the starboard side, then circled tightly around the Zenit

  rocket. Plumes of white smoke spewed from the release valves on the

  rocket, venting the warming fuel. Giordino panned up and down the

  rocket with the camera system.

  "She looks gassed and ready to roll at any minute."

  "Twenty-six minutes, to be precise," Pitt said, eyeing the countdown

  clock.

  Giordino let out a whistle as he glanced at the clock. A slight

  movement on the monitor brought his eyes back to the rocket display,

  but he still almost missed it. He curiously tweaked the focus down the

  length of the rocket until the monitor suddenly filled with the image

  of two men standing at the base of the tower.

  "It's Dirk and Jack! They're tied to the tower."

  Pitt stared at the screen for a moment and nodded, his eyes squinting

  in recognition. Without saying a word, he quickly scanned the platform

  for a spot to bring the blimp down. Though the rear deck of the

  platform offered a large open space between the hangar and the launch

  tower, a tall crane was angled up and inward, impeding the airspace.

  The airship's fabric sides might gash open if contact were made with

  the structure.

  "Nice of them to leave the can opener out for us," Giordino said as he

  peered at the imposing crane.

  "No troubles. We'll just have to make like a helicopter."

  Skimming over the hangar and descending rapidly, Pitt eased the blimp

  down toward the large round helipad mounted above the pilothouse. With

  a finesse touch, he eased the blimp down until the gondola lightly

  kissed the pad.

  "Can I trust you not to go off sightseeing without me?" Pitt asked as

  he hastily climbed out of the pilot's seat.

  "Cross my heart."

  "Give me ten minutes. If we're not back, then just get this thing the

  hell away from the platform before she lights up."

  "I'll keep the meter running," Giordino replied, giving Pitt a nod of

  good luck.

  In a flash, Pitt was out the gondola door and sprinting across the pad.

  As he disappeared down a stairwell, Giordino looked at his watch and

  anxiously started counting the seconds.

  Tongju climbed aboard the Koguryo and immediately raced to the bridge,

  where Captain Lee and Kim stood surveying the Odyssey.

  "You cut your departure a little thin," Lee said soberly. "They have

  already commenced fueling the rocket."

  "A minor delay, due to an unexpected interruption," Tongju replied.

  Scanning the horizon, he noted the airship drifting slowly back toward

  the platform. "Have you detected any more approaching vessels?"

  The captain shook his head. "No, none yet. Besides the airship, there

  has just been the lone research ship that was following behind the

  Coast Guard vessel," he said, pointing to a radar blip on the opposite

  side of the platform. "She's remained in her present position, two

  miles to the northeast of the platform."

  "And no doubt has radioed for assistance. Those damn Ukrainians, he

  spat. "They have brought us too close to shore and placed the mission

  in peril. Captain, we must get under way immediately after liftoff.

  Adjust course due south at full power to Mexican waters before laying

  in for our rendezvous point."

  "What about the airship?" Kim asked. "It must be destroyed as well,

  for it can track our escape."

  Tongju studied the silver blimp, which sat hovering on the Odyssey's

  helicopter pad.

  "We cannot fire upon them while they are positioned near the platform.

  They can do no harm at this late time. Perhaps they will stupidly burn

  in the launch themselves. Come, let us enjoy the liftoff. We will

  dispense with them later."

  With Kim in tow, Tongju left the bridge and quickly made his way aft to

  the launch control center. The brightly lit bay was packed with

  white-coated engineers sitting at workstations arranged in a horseshoe

  shape around the room. On the front center wall was a large flat-panel

  video screen that showed a full image of the Zenit rocket at the launch

  tower, wisps of vapor emanating from its sides. Tongju spotted Ling

  hunched over a monitor conversing with a technician and approached the

  launch operations engineer.

  "Ling, what is the launch status?" Tongju asked.

  The round-faced engineer squinted at Tongju through his glasses.

  "The fueling will be complete in another two minutes. One of the

  backup flight control computers is not responding, there's a

  low-pressure reading in one of the cooling lines, and the number two

  auxiliary turbo pump indicator shows a fluid leakage."

  "What does that mean for the launch?" Tongju asked, a sudden flush

  rising over his normally placid face.

  "None of the items, either individually or collectively, are mission

  critical. All other systems are showing nominal. The launch will

  proceed as scheduled," he said, eyeing a digital launch clock beneath

  the video panel, "in exactly twenty-three minutes and forty-seven

  seconds."

  At twenty-three minutes and forty-six seconds, Jack Dahlgren looked up

  from the Odyssey's ticking launch clock to the Icarus, which seemed

  to be fixed hovering above the pilothouse. He knew there was no chance

  that they could have been spotted by the high-flying gondola, but he

  still wondered if Pitt or Giordino might somehow find a way to stop the

  launch. He strained to turn toward Dirk beside him, expecting his

  friend to be looking at the blimp with hopeful optimism. Instead, Dirk

  was oblivious to the airship, his full attention focused on defiantly

  trying to break the bounds of his ropes. Jack started to offer some

  words of encouragement but his lips froze when he saw a movement inside

  the hangar. He blinked and took another hard look. Sure enough, he

  could see it was a man sprinting through the hangar directly toward

  them.

  "Dirk, there's somebody coming our way. Is that who I think it is?"

  Dirk glanced toward the hangar while continuing to strain at his bound

  hands and feet. He squinted at the lone figure bursting out of the

  hangar and tearing across the platform carrying what looked like a long

  stick in his hand. The figure was tall and lean with dark hair and

  Dirk suddenly stopped struggling at the ropes when he recogn
ized the

  gait.

  "I don't ever recall seeing my father move that fast before," he said

  to Dahlgren, a broad grin spreading across his face.

  As the head of NUMA drew closer, they could see that it was a fire ax,

  not a stick, that he toted in his right hand as he ran. Sprinting up

  to the tower, the elder Pitt smiled in relief at seeing that the two

  men were uninjured.

  "I thought I told you boys never to accept a ride with strangers," he

  gasped, patting his son on the shoulder as he examined the rope

  restraints.

  "Sorry, Dad, but they offered us the moon and the stars," Dirk grinned,

  then added, "Thanks for dropping by to get us."

  "I've got a taxi waiting. Let's just get out of here before they

  ignite this thing."

  Eyeing the center of the rope, he took a full swing and laid the blade

  through the rope that secured Dirk's elbows. With another swing, he

  cut the wrist binds, the blade of the ax ringing loudly as it cut

  through to the tower beam. As Dirk worked to untie his ankles, Pitt

  repeated his Paul Bunyan routine on Dahlgren's ropes. The two men

  quickly scrambled to their feet as Pitt tossed the ax aside.

  "Dad, the Sea Launch platform team is locked up inside the hangar. We

  need to get them out."

  Pitt nodded. "I thought I heard some banging around in there. Lead

  on."

  Almost as one, the three men dashed back across the open platform at

  full speed, knowing that every second counted. As they ran, Dirk

 

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